


Choking On An Apology

by any_otp_will_do



Series: United As A Broken, Fucked Up Mess. [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/any_otp_will_do/pseuds/any_otp_will_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erica ran away with Boyd and broke Isaac's heart. Now that she's back, she has to find a way to correct her mistake. I'm really a fan of vulnerable Erica for this one. I know she has a soft side under that hard and guarded demeanor. (Written with the way things were going before season 3 started up)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Talk To Me

"How is he?" Erica asked. Gone was the leather and the confident demeanor. She stood in front of them in a ripped t-shirt and jeans, dirt smudged and healing from many cuts and scrapes.

She was standing outside of the Hale house in front of Stiles and Scott who were side by side, arms crossed.

"Well… he's not happy." Scott evaded.

"Is he mad?" Her hair was mussed and her fiery red lipstick smudged. She looked deflated and small, like a lost child.

"Mad? Well, he's used to abandonment and abuse by now." Stiles muttered angrily. "What were you thinking? Running away with Boyd wasn't only stupid and  _rude_ , it was dangerous. You both could have been killed."

"Yeah, thanks mom." Erica snapped back. "I already feel bad. I didn't mean—I didn't run away with Boyd for  _that_  reason. It's not what any of you think!" Her voice broke and she looked at the ground.

Stiles backed down. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Then… why did you leave with Boyd?" Scott asked. His puppy face was out and Erica would drink a wolfsbane cocktail before she admitted how adorable it was.

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes back on the ground. She didn't want to tell them. It wasn't their business.

"Erica, you're going to have to explain eventually. You might as well get it out there now." Stiles was gentle but firm.

Erica sighed. "I was— I didn't know what to do. Okay? Boyd told me he was running. I went along, not even thinking about anything else. I… I thought he was right."

It hadn't taken long before they were bickering about turning back. When she and Boyd had heard the howling in the woods, they ran with their metaphorical tails between their legs. They had returned together and quickly parted ways, Boyd to his house and Erica to make amends. She grimaced as she looked up at Scott and Stiles.

"I—I didn't know what else to do." She admitted.

Stiles sighed, "Okay. Well, you might as well go talk to him."

"Go talk to him? Don't you think he's already heard this entire conversation?" Erica was exasperated. The boys shared a look. "What? Why wouldn't he have heard—Oh my god—is he okay? What happened to him?" Immediately her teeth and nails were extending.

"Jesus, nothing happened to him!" Stiles exclaimed. "Put your fangs away, Shakira."

The blonde looked at him with a confused and disgusted expression.

"Shakira—She wolf? No? Ugh… fine." Erica rolled her eyes at the pop culture reference. "He's been listening to classic rock through head phones since you left."

"Yeah, it's actually getting hard to listen to. I don't know how he can stand it being so close to his ears."

Now that Erica was paying attention, she too could hear the bass and drums from far away. She looked up to his window, noticing his room was dark. "D'you—do you think he hates me?" She asked in a small voice.

"I would." Scott said. Stiles elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow! It's true."

"Just go talk to him. That's the only way to fix this."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Erica blew out a swift gust of air as she stood outside Isaac's door, running a hand through her hair to tame it. She raised her hand to knock, but thought better of it. She could hear Isaac's music full blast inside, and guessed he wouldn't hear her knock anyway. She deliberated for a moment before slowly opening the door.

The door revealed a room lit by only the sun coming through the windows. It was almost neat, with stacks of books and CDs placed on windowsills and bookshelves, or anywhere possible. His desk held a laptop, a few textbooks, and more CDs and books. His bed was pushed to the wall on the opposite side.

He was lying down on his bed, eyes closed. Big headphones covered his ears and his foot moved to the beat. She could hear Led Zeppelin pounding out in waves as she leaned up against the frame of his door. The light from the windows played in his tawny hair and her hand itched to join it. She watched as his nostrils flared, knowing her scent had permeated the room.

The music stopped, and the sudden lack of sound made her feel bare. She could hear the ceased sound and movement downstairs before Derek's "Get out." The house was quickly vacated and the bang of the front door and the rev of two engines were the only noises for a long while.

"Why are you here, Erica?" He didn't sound angry. He sounded tired.

Erica bit her lip and started forward, but then stopped. "I came to say I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"What?" He stood up quickly and walked a few paces toward her. "You didn't what? Didn't mean to run away with Boyd? Didn't mean to leave without saying goodbye?" He didn't yell. He hated yelling, which was understandable. His lip quivered. "You didn't even say goodbye." He sat back down on his bed, head in his hands.

"I—"

"What do you want, Erica?" He asked wearily.

"I want to apologize—"

"No, what do you  _want_?"

"I want you to not be mad at me." Erica cried. Her breaths came faster and she rushed to say her piece before he cut her off. "I didn't think about what I was doing. I was misguided and freaked the fuck out. And scared. I was scared."

Isaac picked his head up from his hands and looked at her. His eyes softened and he extended his arms, inviting her to them. She rushed into his embrace, muffling her breathing against his neck. She inhaled, enjoying his warm clean scent. He smelled like mint gum and old books.

"Why didn't you come to me?" Isaac asked softly. It was easy to hear the hurt in his voice. She pulled back, and looked at her feet.

"I didn't want to pull you away from here. Derek, Scott, Stiles? They're your family. I didn't really fit in the same. I didn't want to take you away from the first place you've called home in so long."

They sat in silence, just thinking and listening to each other's breathing. Slowly, Isaac's hand closed over her own. Their fingers intertwined and his thumb rubbed over her knuckle. A smile began to build on her face and she looked up at him, only a small hint of fear and guilt in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Isaac. I'm just so sorr—"

"I forgive you." He murmured, "Don't worry."

They were close now, their bodies drawn towards each other like magnets. She could hear his heart rate increasing and she knew hers was as well. His eyes flashed gold as they flickered to her lips. Her lungs worked hard to drag in a single breath as she looked at his mouth as well. They slowly leaned into each other, his breath washing over her face before their mouths met.

He was inexperienced, that much was clear, but Erica didn't mind. His lips were soft and sweet against hers, even though his heart pounded and his hands shook. Her eyes fluttered closed as she made a small high noise of satisfaction. His mouth stilled for a moment, but she drew him closer with a hand on the back of his neck. Her fingers twisted in his bronze curls, encouraging him. She desperately wanted him to hold her. She got her wish.

His arms circled her waist, playing with the hair that fell down her back to his hands. She shivered as his fingers sent tingles up her spine. She smiled, feeling the curl of his lips as well. Almost shyly, her mouth parted, a tongue darting out to quickly taste his bottom lip.

He drew back, tongue between his teeth, looking at her intently. His eyes burned gold as their gaze met. With a hand curled into her blonde hair this time, he ducked back down to gather her lips in his.

He learned the contours of her mouth quickly, teasing and questing expertly. Her stomach coiled and uncoiled deliciously, his warmth sinking into her and fueling her want. Beneath her ribcage, her wolf curled up beneath her heart. Tucking its nose into its side, the wolf yawned, closed its amber eyes, and fell asleep.

Erica pulled back in shock. Her surprise must have shown on her face because Isaac looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"My wolf…" Erica said dazedly, "Fell asleep…"

"Yeah?" He asked, comprehension dawning on his face.

"It hasn't done that before… not even when I sleep." Erica let a brilliant smile spread over her face. "I think I've found my anchor."


	2. Read To Me

When all was said and done, when it was the end of the day and there was no more strutting or threatening to do, Erica liked to relax. Little did many people know, she had a fondness for over-sized sweaters and reading by the fire place at her mom's house. Her mom was rarely ever home. She had other more important things to do like hang out with her fiancé and go to wine tastings and travel the globe. She left for weeks at a time, and when she came home—when she remembered she had a daughter—she would take a few sleeping pills, complain about being tired, and promptly crash on the couch.

So in the weeks of being alone, Erica would pretend it was her house. She would come home from school or pack hang outs and kick off her leather boots and pull her hair into a messy bun as she tripped up the stairs in her hurry to get out of her clothes. She loved wearing tight outfits and sexy colors, she really did, but there was a time and place for everything. And home was a place for ugly sweaters and slippers.

She would walk downstairs in a sweater long enough to be a dress and a pair of fuzzy slippers, and make a beeline for the kitchen. Luckily, her mother kept a jar of money—a pretty good amount of money—on the counter. She'd been using it to buy food and keep herself funded over the three years of neglect. Every time her mother came home, she would add a little more to the jar, never seeming to notice that money was missing. Or maybe she didn't care. Or maybe this was her way of "taking care" of Erica. She wouldn't say anything about anything.

That was the reason she had stopped taking her medicine for epilepsy. She wasn't being rebellious or trying to kid herself into not needing it; she had prioritized and determined she needed the money elsewhere. Like feeding herself. It was just lucky she didn't have siblings or a dad to take care of. No, dad had walked out a long time ago.

She didn't tell Derek about any of this. She didn't want him to insist on her moving into the Pack house full time. While she spent a fair amount of time there, she liked having her own place—sort of. She wouldn't like having to keep up appearances all day every day. And she didn't want to be teased when Scott learned about her love of sweaters and cats.

Besides, there was too much testosterone in the house, what with Derek, Scott, Stiles, Boyd, and Jackson. (Sometimes) Jackson spent most of his time with Lydia or at his parent's house. He only came when necessary or when bored. Stiles, however, had quickly fit in as Pack mom. He and Derek had a thing going on. They denied it of course, but everyone knew. Hard to remain oblivious when they smell like each other all the time.

Isaac lived nearly full time at the Pack house. He never really wanted to return to his dad's place, so that was a problem easily fixed. But he came over here quite frequently. He would bring a book and they would read in silence. Or they would cook together and laugh and be generally obnoxious. Or she would take pictures of him and play music and dance around the house. He would always complain about the general mess, but it wasn't that bad and he was really just teasing.

There was a knock on the door and Erica looked up from her book, knowing who it was. Isaac had told her he wanted to come over today, so she had been expecting him. She walked over to the door and let him in, smiling as soon as her eyes met his. She stepped aside and let him in, and he brushed by her as he strolled inside.

"What smells so great?" He asked. "I could smell this from three blocks away. It's great." He followed his nose to the kitchen. Erica had been cooking for about three hours now. Two great big pots were sitting on the stove; two bowls were on the counter beside it.

"Impeccable timing, as usual." She smiled.

"It's a gift." He held his hands out and shrugged.

"Get a drainer out, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed a metal drainer and stuck it in the sink. "This is for the pasta, I take it?" He peered through the glass lid of the smaller pot before taking it off the burner.

"Mhm." She responded, lifting the lid to the other and dodging the steam that billowed out of it. She picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the contents, drumming up another cloud of wonderful smelling air.

"That's too good to be allowed, with these senses." Isaac teased. He snaked his hands around her waist and looked over her shoulder. "Damn, Erica. Are you cooking for an army? There are only two of us, you know."

"Yeah… I doubled the recipe thinking I would bring some over to the Pack. I mean, pizza's good, but I think the boys are starting to put on a little weight. And not in muscle."

"I thought Stiles was supposed to be Pack mom." Isaac drawled, poking at her side.

Erica wrinkled her nose before kissing him under his jaw. _Stupid, wonderful jaw-line._  "I'm not Pack mom material, but I do think I should give Stiles some of my recipes. Once he gets started, you guys will be eating home cooked meals a lot more often."

"Count me in." Isaac approved.

Erica dished out a bunch of noodles and ladled the stew on top. She made her way to the small kitchen table and made some room for them to eat.

"Have you thought about, maybe moving some of your mom's stuff out of the way?" He ventured cautiously. "From what you've told me, she only uses the couch and the medicine cabinet when she's home."

"What do you mean? Where would I put it?" She questioned.

"I don't know. A room you never use, I guess. Maybe her room."

Erica nodded. "Actually, that's a good idea… I'll work on it a little tomorrow or this weekend."

"I'll help." Isaac offered.

Erica released a radiant smile. "Thanks. Now eat, I want to know if this is good."

Isaac grinned at his spoon as he lifted a bite to his mouth. A moment later he stopped everything. He even kind of stopped breathing. For a second, she was worried she'd poisoned him.

"I don't think you can take this to the Pack house."

"Oh." Erica was crestfallen. She had worked really hard on it.

"Because I'm going to eat it all." He smiled as he went back to his food and Erica clapped inwardly like a little girl. She resisted giggling but ate her meal in an intensely happy mood.  _Thank you, Laura Vitale._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Erica launched herself onto the couch and cuddled into Isaac's arms. He was holing a book and she made grabby hands at it until he showed her the cover.  _Best Remembered Poems._

This is why Erica let him see the sweaters and the messy hair and the cooking. Because she knew his secret. (Okay, it wasn't the only reason.) She knew his passion for books and words in generally, but she also knew about the endless streams of poetry books, his favorite poems, and had even read a few of his pieces.

She wiggled down into him and breathed into his chest. "What's on the menu tonight?" She huffed into his chest.

"Hmm." He breathed. "I was thinking Francis William Bourdillon's,  _The Night Has A Thousand Eyes._ "

He opened the book, turned to the right page, and started to read.

" _The night has a thousand eyes,/ and the day but one;/ Yet the light of the bright world dies/ With the Dying sun._ "

Erica closed her eyes and let his voice wash over her. She loved when he read to her, loved hearing his voice go through the dip and sway of a narrative. He had great inflection, unlike the monotonous tone one might hear from a high school teacher.

" _The mind has a thousand eyes,/ And the heart but one;/ Yet the light of a whole life dies/ When love is done._ "

Erica was still and quiet for a moment, thinking about what he said. "What do you think the guy, Francis? Yeah, what do you think Francis meant by the mind has a thousand eyes? I mean, our brains don't actually have eyes all over them, so what do you think he was referring to?"

"The most assumed idea is that the mind has many eyes because it does so many things. The heart has one eye because it only does one thing— which is love— but the mind does so many things."

"I'd like to think it has something to do with all the things we see. Our brains are where we process images and ideas and noises, it's the epicenter of our entire beings. I'd like to think he meant that the brain is the location of knowledge and the most powerful tools. He kind of compared them to stars, which are pretty important, if you think about it."

"But he didn't really make the brain or the stars out to be so special. He said that the light goes out without the sun or love."

"I mean, technically we would all die without the sun. But in a figurative way, the sun makes the night better. One of the thousand eyes of the sky is the moon, which isn't bioluminescent. It needs the sun to shine at all. Same thing with the mind. I don't think the heart's eye is love, I think it's passion. Without passion, curiosity, or love, we wouldn't be as motivated to do things with the eyes of our minds. What would be the point?"

Isaac was quiet for a moment, their heartbeats filling the silence. "You should be a poet." He murmured.

"Yeah, whatever." Erica scoffed, throwing a pillow at him. "Read me my favorite."

Isaac smiled and turned a few pages. "I don't know why you like it so much. It hardly makes any sense."

Erica stuck her tongue out at him and went back to her place nestled into him.

" _'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves/ Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;/ All mimsy were the borogoves,/ And the mome raths outgrabe./_

_"Beware the Jabberwock, my son/ The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!/ Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun/ The frumious Bandersnatch!"/_

_He took his vorpal sword in hand;/ Long time the manxome foe he sought—/ So rested he by the Tumtum tree,/ And stood awhile in thought./_

_And, as in uffish thought he stood,/ The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,/ Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,/ And burbled as it came!/_

_One, two! One, two! And through and through/ The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!/ He left it dead, and with its head/ He went galumphing back./_

_"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?/ Come to my arms, my beamish boy!/ O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"/ He chortled in his joy./_

_'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves/ Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;/ All mimsy were the borogoves,/ And the mome raths outgrabe._ "

"Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas—only I don't exactly know what they are!" Erica quoted at him. "However, somebody killed something: that's clear."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

With Erica back in a leather jacket, boots and tight jeans, the two head back to the Pack house. They ran there, making sure to lose the scent of the fire they'd been hanging around that evening. It had been years, but the smell of smoke still set Derek on edge. They checked each other before they headed inside, and walked in; confident the smell of the stew would overpower anything else.

"Hey, mom." The two chorused as they saw Stiles chatting to Boyd.

"Hey guys, where have you been? Did you want dinner? What about your laundry, do you need me to do that for you?" Stiles droned sarcastically.

"No, laundry's done. We've been at my house. No dinner either, I cooked." Erica quipped.

Boyd paused with half a poptart in his mouth. "Wait, you can cook?"

"Damn straight. That shit's like heaven in your mouth." Isaac answered.

Scott and Allison drifted into the room, "I heard someone mention food." Scott interjected.

Erica held up the two gallon container of stew and shook it slightly. "Don't drool on the floor, Scott."

"Is it up for grabs?" He asked eagerly.

"You can have some, if you want. But you're sharing with everyone else."

Scott pouted a little, but grabbed a bowl anyway. Pretty soon there was a lineup for the food. Quite a few compliments were passed around, but the most common sound was chewing and appreciative noises. Erica didn't mind, she didn't like getting tidal waves of compliments anyway.

It was easy to tell when Derek walked into the room. First of all, his scent was potent (Alpha), second of all… well… the tension in the room went up. The boys looked up from their bowls to see the almost blatant eye sex between Derek and Stiles.

"Get some food or get a room, Jesus." Boyd complained after a very long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

The Betas all laughed as Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek huffed and sat down at the counter, pulling the stew over to himself. Stiles tossed him a bowl and he dipped some out. A conversation soon struck up and Erica caught Derek smiling. It was nice to see that brilliant smile in place of his usual gloomy look.

She reached for Isaac's hand and their fingers entwined. She exhaled happily, looking at the container. It was already almost empty. She didn't think it would have survived the night.

"Erica, you have got to cook more often." Scott begged.


	3. Sing To Me

Erica didn't have seizures often anymore. It was only in moments of extreme exertion or anxiety. Or both. Isaac, however, still had panic attacks regularly. Usually at night.

Whenever they happened, Erica was right by his side. It didn't matter if she was at her house and he was in the Pack house, somehow she could tell. She would slip into the window that was usually open and always unlocked and sit on his bed. She would cradle him and croon to him until he could relax. Then she would stay the night, hands soothing tense muscles and straying to his curls.

She would slip out in the morning before Derek or one of the others showed up. She must have known it would embarrass Isaac if they found out. For some reason, they never really noticed the way her scent would cling to him as he descended the stairs for breakfast. Perhaps they had attributed it to the amount of time they spent together during the day. Perhaps they were just unobservant.

For a house full of werewolves with heightened senses, many of them were plain oblivious. Scott was never completely adept at honing his skills onto anyone other than Allison. Jackson was rarely ever there. Derek usually had his mind on other things, often leaving in the middle of the night to go running or making rounds. (He was always there when he was needed. Derek was many things, but unreliable was not one of them.)

Boyd may have noticed, but even if he did, he wouldn't have said anything. Boyd was a quiet and unassuming guy who had been especially courteous after running away. He had realized his mistake early on and when he returned he had completely given in to Derek as Alpha. He now understood that Derek would protect them.

And that Derek did. They had regular trainings where they learned tracking, self defense, and form control. He taught them how to find their specialties, their abilities, and their weaknesses. Unlike the first few trainings, these latest ones had become more laid back and understanding. Not easy, of course, but a lot less throwing to the ground went on.

Although Derek did not seem like the Kumbayah type of guy, they had had quite a few sessions where they would find their centers and focus on what allowed them to take and keep control. The first one of these sessions he had brought them all outside and told them to pick a tree. Confused, the Pack had stood there looking at him dumbly.

"You're going to sit by it. You need to pick the one that entices you personally." Derek explained.

"You want us to pick a tree? Is this tai-chi yoga crap?" Jackson had asked, scathingly.

Derek let out a sharp breath through his nose. "I don't need your smart-ass remarks, Jackson. Pick a goddamn tree."

Isaac looked around at the trees available. There was an entire arbor behind the Hale house. Maples, oaks, beech, and many more were clustered around each other. Derek took a place at a yew tree, pressing his back up against the trunk and relaxing. Isaac walked tentatively over to a cherry blossom tree that had been calling to him. He found a little dip in the earth which would allow him to sit comfortably and used the tree as a back.

Boyd settled into an apple tree, Jackson a flowering pear, and Erica a dogwood. Scott floundered for a moment before he spotted a maple. Now that there was stillness, Isaac could feel a buzzing hum noise. But it wasn't like he could hear it with his ears. It was almost like he could see and taste it.

"What you're feeling is normal, so don't freak out." Derek's voice was calm. "I want you to follow my instructions. If you think it's bullshit, then you can leave. But do it quietly, so no one else is bothered." His comment was bluntly directed at Jackson, who rolled his eyes but stayed put.

"Okay. When I was young, my fam—part of my training was to find my center. These trees help you focus your energy. Trees run on different frequencies, just like people do, so everybody has their own preference. Sometimes it's just a personal connection, sometimes it's memory-linked. Who chose a tree because it reminds you of something or someone?"

Boyd nodded. "We had one in our backyard."

Jackson muttered something about Lydia. Isaac remembered the way she always smelled like pears and cinnamon.

"So you three chose it because of the tree itself?" Erica, Isaac, and Scott nodded. "Alright. I'd like you to close your eyes and settle back into the trunk of the tree. Calm your breathing and lower your heart rate. It might be difficult at first, but with time, you'll be able to do this instantly."

For a few minutes, there was no sound but for breathing, heart beats, and the sound of nature. Isaac listened to Derek's pulse intently. It had already lowered significantly. He focused inwardly, trying to do the same. After a while, his focus shifted to Erica's heartbeat. Oddly enough, they were in tune. As Isaac noticed this, he relaxed and his heart rate lowered. Erica's was soon following.

Derek's voice broke the quiet. "Good. This calmness is what will allow you to keep from shifting. Especially during the full moon. However, the calm is only half of it. Isaac, Erica, and Scott have already found their anchors. They're people or their memories of a person. That's fine. Your anchor can also be an object or a memory. Focus on something that makes you calm. There may be many things, and it may take you a while to decide, but eventually one will stand out as your anchor.

"This anchor will be the final tie holding you down during a shift. It will also allow you to take greater control of the transformation, making it quicker and less painful."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Isaac already knew his anchor, and although many of the pack couldn't understand it, it worked. The connection to the way his dad used to be was a way for Isaac to feel loyal without feeling guilty. Ever since he had joined the pack, he had lost all ties with his father. He barely had any time to mourn before he was yanked into a whole different way of life. He hadn't really had any time to feel bad about it either.

That night in the sub car, as he was shifting, he was brought back to a memory of his father. It was when he was quite young. They had been in the park and his father was pushing him on the swing. That image had filled him with a strong sense of calm, made him feel human again. Then he had felt the wolf go to sleep in his body, tucked under his heart, beneath his ribs. The sensation had been extraordinarily strange, but had given him control over himself.

It was times like this, when the moon was high in the sky, shining in little slats through his blinds, he liked to peruse memories of his father. He found it was much easier to sleep when his wolf was doing the same—which made a lot of sense, logically.

With much practice, he had been able to call a succession of good memories with his dad to the forefront of his brain.

_He was four and on the playground. His dad was making him laugh. When the young boy swung forward towards him, he would pretend to get hit by Isaac's small feet._

_He was seven and they were having a party. His dad brought out a large cake with his name and seven candles._

_He was ten and his dad gave him a high five and took him out for ice-cream when he got good grades._

_He was twelve and his dad was scolding him for not making his bed._

_He was thirteen and his dad began drinking._

Isaac knew where this was headed. He tried to choke off the regurgitated memories, but he couldn't stem the flow.

_He was fourteen and he started wearing long sleeves all the time to hide the bruises._

_He was fifteen and his father cleared out the freezer. He was pushed inside. A metallic snap told him that there was a lock. He panicked and lashed out, jamming several fingers as he smacked the walls of the freezer repeatedly. After several minutes and fractures later, he stopped all movement, crying softly to himself. It would be hours later before he would be allowed out._

Isaac's breathing quickened and his eyes blinked rapidly. He tried to rid his mind of these ideas, but they invaded and took over. Tears began to form in his eyes as his breath came quicker and his lungs constricted. The sound of blinds and footsteps filled his ears and the smell of Erica filled his nose. Her warm arms enveloped him and he felt his muscles tense and then relax.

As his vitals returned to normal, Isaac could hear her singing to him. Her voice dipped and flowed over the notes. Her words were sweet honey and warm tea as they washed over him. He sat up and cupped her chin, laying a soft kiss on her lips. Through the darkness, he could make out the silhouette of her large sweater. He smiled and she lay down beside him, turning to fit her back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and breathed in her scent before dropping off to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Erica had recently saved up enough money to buy a car. An old one, granted, but a car anyway. She drove the old junker to Derek immediately, and he showed her how to fix it up. Boyd helped out, and it became a bit of a group project. A week after buying it, they stood back and looked at it with pride. Erica decided to take it out on a drive.

"Isaac! Come with me." She prodded at Isaac.

He set down the book he had been reading and looked up at her eager expression. He eyed the oil stains on her hands and smiled. "Car's finally finished, then?" He asked. She nodded excitedly, grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet.

They went out to find her blue civic shiny and waiting for them in the clearing in front of the house. It had been washed and polished so well it looked practically new. Erica jingled the keys happily as she walked to the driver's seat.

"Sorry I couldn't help out. I'm useless with cars." Isaac said as he followed and dropped into the passenger seat. "You know how to drive stick?"

"Derek taught me." Erica explained.

Isaac smiled. Derek really was like the dad Erica never got to spend time with. Except younger. And a werewolf.

They pulled out of the clearing and down the path through the woods. They peeled out onto the main roads and Erica headed for the highway. She looked good in this car. She looked like she fit. She pulled a pair of sunglasses out her leather jacket and put them on.

"So where are we going?" Isaac asked, putting on his own pair.

"No idea!" Erica handed him her ipod. "Here, plug this in."

Isaac did as he was told and pressed play.

_If you could only see the beast you've made of me,_

_I held it in the night, it seems you've set it running free._

Erica laughed. "I love this song. It's a bit fitting, don't you think?"

_Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart._

_Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart._

_My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in._

_You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl._

_My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in._

_You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to_

_Howl, hooowl._

Erica's red lips shaped the words in a pretend howl. Her laugh burbled along as she sang, matching the singer's voice. Isaac had to admit, it was a bit funny. He laughed with her as they drove down the road. He rolled down his window and turned up the music. The wind whipped Erica's hair around her and she smiled unabashedly.

Nodding to the beat, Isaac watched the other cars and trees as they passed by. He was filled with a strong sense of freedom as he felt the warm sun on his skin and they drove a little too fast. He found himself tapping along with the beat.

When the song was over, he looked over at Erica who reached over for his hand. Their fingers intertwined as the next song came on. This one Isaac recognized.

_Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on! La, la, la, la, life goes one!_


	4. Make Love To Me

It was summer and the warmth of the sun being closer to the earth—or whatever it was that made summer hot—was diminished by the cool night breeze. The evening was dark enough that Erica's eyes flashed gold and the wolf burned under her heart in desire for the freedom of running with a pack. She ran in near silence. Her body didn't give away her precision. Her feet knew how to softly pad through the brush and the branches. Her darting eyes picked up every leaf and twitching animal. The teeming life of the woods was so much more tangible when you had the ability to hear and feel the breath of even the smallest animal.

Erica was scenting her way through the forest. Without even having to shift, her sense of smell was strong enough for her to find what she was looking for. Not very many things smelled like a mixture of cool mint, dusty volumes and hot tea. Even without the strange smell, nothing else pulled Erica in such an alluring fashion. Nothing but Isaac could do that to her.

They were playing, bonding in a way that wolves often did. It was something Derek had introduced them to. Something that his family used to do and that they did now. He had taken off and hid in the trees, moving and doubling back as to confuse her and challenge her. She had given him ten minutes to really lose himself and had followed him. She used his scent as a secondary guide to find him. She mainly relied on the way her body felt. When she was apart from him, she yearned to be near him again.

She paid attention to the fluttering of her heart. The stuttering was not from exertion, but from proximity. She knew she had to be close to him. Even her wolf reared its head and began tasting the air. She slowed, focusing her energy on her nose and her hearing. Her pull to him was even stronger, guiding her in the right direction before she could hear the ebb and flow of blood in his veins. Before she could hear the rustle of his skin in his clothing. Before she could smell his concentrated scent.

She could hear him moving stealthily in her direction. Her wolf howled inwardly, nearly causing her to whimper. Either he didn't sense her, or he wanted to be found. They had been at this for over an hour. All of the other pack members had been out here earlier, but had all left to sleep or do other things. Maybe Isaac was bored and wanted to go home. No matter what the reason, Erica was going to catch him.

She rounded a pair of cottonwoods and found herself behind him. He was moving slowly enough that Erica could sneak up behind him. But he would still be able to hear her if she made one wrong move. She could run after him quickly, making more noise but with the advantage of a head start. But if he heard her he could make a run for it.

She settled for a happy middle. She quietly caught up with him, going slightly faster than he was in order to get close. When she was about three feet from him, she leaped and tackled him to the ground. He yelped quietly as they plummeted to the ground. He turned before they hit the dirt, so he landed on his back and she landed with her legs on either side of him, knees bent slightly and hands on his chest.

He smiled at her openly, eyes flashing amber in the darkness. "You win."

"What do I get?" She asked him silkily.

"What do you want?" His voice was hushed and forbidden.

Erica leaned down and kissed him. She sank to her knees in the dirt and grabbed a fistful of his shirt greedily. He met her halfway in a kiss that was fueled by adrenaline, separation, and the exhilaration of being outdoors surrounded by each other.

Isaac's lips were quick and clever as they zinged across her lips and burned through her chest. She licked along the seam of his lips and his tongue met hers halfway. As was normal, her wolf curled up and fell asleep beneath her heart, even as the kiss grew more ardent.

Erica curled her fingers around his arms and leaned down to get closer to him. Her hair fell in a curtain around their fused mouths, shielding their faces from anyone but themselves. Isaac's hands buried themselves in her hair, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her forward. She was all too happy to comply. She just wanted to be close, as dumb as it sounded. Ever since she found her happiness with Isaac she found herself falling victim to all these clichés she had spurned others for.

But she couldn't quite bring herself to care as his lips and teeth left her wanting mouth and moved down her jaw line to her neck. Her hands found his curls and held his bruising kisses as close to her skin as she could. Sadly, the bruises and hickeys and bite marks would not last long, but she could have them before they healed. And they felt so good when he did it. She keened softly, unconsciously moving her hips against his in a rhythm he matched. He groaned under her, lifting his hips to find purchase against her body.

"Isaac…" Erica panted. Her voice surprised her. It was a bit lower, huskier. It dripped with want—with need.

"What do you need?" His voice had lowered as well. The deep timbre did something unexplainable to her and she moaned openly, rubbing herself more forcefully against him.

"Need you," She gasped. "Come on, let's go."

She stood and pulled him along with her in a daze, always with some sort of skin contact. Neither of them could have explained how they got back to Pack house in one piece. They weren't paying attention to where they were going or any trees in the way, they simply made their way blindly; kissing, touching and caressing the whole way. At one point Erica pressed Isaac up against a tree and their kissing became a face battle. She nibbled along his lip and sucked on his tongue; he maneuvered her hips against his with his hands, holding hard enough that she could feel the tips of his extended nails.

They practically wrestled each other across the clearing and into the house, up the stairs, and into Isaac's room. For some reason, no one else was home. It was a good thing, Erica thought, because this is not something she wanted to share with the rest of the Pack. She tugged off his shirt and they fell onto his bed.

For the first time since she tackled him in the forest, she broke away from him. She was straddling his lap, her lips inches away from his face, his body propped up by his arms. She ran her hands along his body reverently, fingers exploring the flushed skin pulled taut over strong muscle. "I love you." She whispered.

Isaac's eyes burned like gold at her words. "I love you, Erica."

He dropped soft kisses on her mouth, down her neck, and to her chest. She shrugged out of her leather jacket and pulled at the hem of her shirt, trying to give his questing mouth the skin it deserved. He helped banish the clothing from her skin until her breasts were free and he could cup them in his hands.

She hissed as his skin made contact with hers, whimpered when he took a nipple in his mouth. His long fingers were keen and adept, eliciting the right sounds, being just rough enough that Erica found it difficult to breathe. She fisted his tawny hair in her hands and held on for dear life, rutting against him desperately. She could feel his hard cock against her thighs, felt the way he grunted into her flesh when she moved.

She pulled herself away from him and moved down his body, her knees on the floor, eye level with his crotch. She pulled his pants and boxers out of her way, lowering her head to his cock, breathing in his heady scent. Although she was uncertain, she didn't let it show much. She knew the basic principle behind giving head, even if she'd never attempted it.

She licked a long stripe up his stomach, feeling his hands curl in her hair. She mouthed her way back down and kissed along his length. Her mouth fluttered and her tongue swirled. Her hand sank down to his balls and fondled them slowly as she took him into her mouth and sucked gently. He groaned and his hands tightened and she could feel the scrape of his claws. She took her encouragement in the form of moving her head faster and using her other hand to stroke him along with her mouth. Using her tongue as a buffer for her teeth, she licked the underside of his cock enthusiastically. As his panting grew louder, she left his balls to run her hand along the sensitive area of his lower stomach.

His hips began to lift off the bed, and Erica moved even faster. Her hands stroked and caressed as her mouth went down as far as she could on his length. She moaned slightly and Isaac broke apart. He groaned and his hips thrust upward and his cock twitched. Erica swallowed repeatedly before standing up and kissing him full on the mouth.

He turned her over and pressed her down into the mattress. He carefully cut away her clothing with his teeth and claws and settled himself on his knees between her legs. He was wearing a cheeky expression and dragged his now blunt nails down her stomach. He settled down and reached under her legs to hold her hips, the crooks of her knees hooked over his shoulders.

He took in a deep breath, unable to hide the way her arousal made him shudder. Erica looked down at him and whimpered ever so slightly. He looked at her and the way her chest heaved and put himself to good use. He ran his tongue around her clit, suctioning and nibbling ever so slightly. He struggled to reign in his wolf, who was trying to make an appearance in his fangs and claws. He easily slid his fingers into her and set a rhythm that made her pant and growl.

He was doing things with his tongue that Erica couldn't even believe. She couldn't follow his movements, werewolf sense or no, so she simply let her head fall back at the onslaught of pleasure. At one point, when the pressure was really intense, she lifted off the pillow, grabbing Isaac's face in her clawed fingers and stifled a howl, biting into her lip fiercely with her fangs. She tasted blood, but the wound was healed before she hit the pillow again.

As she shuddered and convulsed slightly, coming down from some peak that was way over her head, she contemplated the good kind of seizing.

She didn't let him rest though. She pulled him up to her eagerly and grabbed him by the hips. He did not wince as her nails nicked him repeatedly, only growled and held on just as tightly. There were no words needed, she called and he answered with movements and breathing and the flashing of their eyes. And she nodded and he pressed into her.

There was a moment of stillness before Erica let out a broken moan that rocked all the way down her body. She quivered as she pulled her legs around his hips and grabbed his neck in her arms. She kissed him with lips and teeth and so much passion she felt she might break. And he was moving.

God, that movement brought the sweetest sensations to her.

She felt like she couldn't contain anything, couldn't support herself, and here he was, helping share the moment. And they keened and growled and bit at each other, licking and crooning in the heat.

They were enveloped in each other so completely, that nothing could have distracted them. And there was a moment where they simply put their foreheads together and breathed each other's hot ragged breaths and moved so endlessly.

They finally fell apart, so close in timing that only wolf senses would have been able to tell. And their bodies became a million pieces that blew away with the wind and across the world before recollecting on the bed and reforming their spent bodies.

Judging by the light, it was early morning. Erica awoke to find herself in an over-sized sweater and nothing else. The perfect body of Isaac Lahey lay next to her in all of his lanky glory. She rolled herself over, pulling her sweater up over her thighs as she straddled him. She released the fabric and leaned down to Isaac's mouth and kissed him, rubbing herself against him purposefully.

He awoke with a groan and Erica could feel him hardening underneath her. Her eyes trailed over his body and noticed all the red marks that her lipstick had left during last night's activities. She blushed slightly, as she remembered their hot, sweaty, messy activities.

Isaac grabbed her waist, putting pressure on her teasing hips as she gyrated. She lifted her body and lowered herself onto him, letting out a near squeak at the feeling. She began her movements, subtle and rocking, deliberately drawn out.

This time they made love, in the wee hours of the morning. It was slow and wet and loving, but nearly silent. They moved against each other as if they had all the time in the world, and it felt like they did. When Erica climaxed or the third time that night, she fell onto Isaac's chest and rubbed her lips across his damp skin. She couldn't speak, couldn't put into words what she was thinking, but she knew he understood.

They fell asleep once again with him still inside her, their legs and arms twined.

In the morning, as they were getting dressed, Isaac spotted a bite on Erica's shoulder that hadn't completely healed. Seeing it as odd, he pointed it out to her, and she touched it thoughtfully, not really thinking much of it. However, when it didn't make any signs of healing in the next few minutes, she panicked a little.

She full on freaked out when she noticed that he had a similar one on the inside of his arm. He felt at it, and felt little pain, but they both feared the possibility of being spiked with wolfsbane. They ran to Derek, not even bothering to knock on his door. They clamored at him, gesturing to the angry red marks that they had noticed.

At first, Derek was simply alarmed that they had run into his bedroom while he was half dressed. Thankfully everything that needed to be covered was, but he was disgruntled anyway. As he pulled on a shirt, he listened to their rushed story with a half smirk on his face.

In a moment of silence when he made no move to explain to them, Erica nearly shrieked at him. "Well what's going on, oh-mighty Alpha? Stop smiling like that and explain!"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You guys had fun last night, yeah?"

That stopped them dead in their tracks.

"How did you…" Isaac started.

"Well, if the noises at three in the morning weren't a clue," The two looked sheepish. "The smell coming off you two and the not completely healed bites would be telling."

Erica and Isaac looked at each other with confused puppy faces.

Derek sighed. "When two wolves mate, yes you heard me correctly, their scent becomes more like each other's. You smell nearly identical; probably helped by the fact that you were rolling all over each other for a good long while.

"They're mate bites. You get them when you find your life-mate. You can fuck anyone you want, as people do, but these bites are given when you meet the one you're best fitted to, biologically, romantically, all that. You probably barely noticed bestowing them. They won't ever heal. But congrats, you're practically married."


End file.
